The TV Job
by EKSimmons
Summary: A popular children's programming host, and childhood friend of Nate, comes to the team after the network head of programming ruins his reputation and show, replacing it with a program hosted by a violent alcoholic host. The team sets out to sell the network a new hit show in an attempt to force the head of programming to reveal his secrets.


**The TV Job**

***Action takes place during Season 5 between The Corkscrew Job and The Toy Job.**

Clay Campbell sat slouched as low as he could make his 6'3" frame in the corner table of Bridgeport Brew Pub. He was hundreds of miles from anyone who would look for him- here in the heart of Portland, Oregon- but he couldn't help it. A decade as the host of a beloved children's program had caused him to forget that not every child wanted to hug him- nor every parent wanted to shake his hand- especially now. Nobody in the pub paid attention to him or his pint glass still nearly full. There had been many times he had dreamed of this anonymity, but he wasn't here to disappear. No, this trip was a desperate attempt to get his crazy life in the spotlight back, or at the very least, his name restored.

Carrying a mug of steaming coffee, Nate Ford made his way back to Clay. He sighed as he plopped into the opposite seat. "I'm sorry, Clay. Pub business- I hadn't counted on being alone. Sorry I kept you waiting. So, tell me, what brings you out to rainy Portland to seek me?" Nate gave Clay a warm smile.

"It's all right, Nate. I feel bad bringing this all on you, but I'm not sure what to do anymore. You were always a good friend to me. I'm not sure what exactly you do now, but I figure that brain of yours is my only hope," Clay swallowed and stared into his glass.

"You were a hell of a friend yourself. Who else could I tell secrets to that DIDN'T end up in my father's ears an hour later?" Nate laughed.

"I was too afraid of what he would do to the messenger," Clay smiled in spite of himself.

"Too true," Nate replied. "How about you tell me the problem and we can get to solving it."

Clay took a deep breath and released. "It's the show…"

"They want you to change it?" Nate queried.

"No… they shut it down. No warning- just shut it down. A week later, a show started filming on our stage- Sonny Colter."

"That isn't unusual, the quick turnaround to keep the cash flow. You had no clue the show was struggling?" Nate frowned.

"It wasn't. Our ratings were strong as ever, Nate. The head of programming changed our time slot the final week- 2 hours back. We tried to get the word out there, Nate, we did but there wasn't enough time when we found out. Our ratings dropped 42% in a day. By the end of the week, we were cancelled. I know we took a hit, but 42%?"

"That sounds unbelievable, even with a time change. Decent kids shows are hard to come by, it would take something pretty bad to drop you that fast…"

"That's what I said. I asked them to give us a week to show them, but Mr. Wellington had me removed from the property."

"Removed?"

"Rather publicly. Nate, the newspapers had pictures of security tossing me out."

"Wellington was trying to discredit you. Let my team do a little digging. We should be able to shake him."

"I wasn't the only one, Nate. At least ten shows have had inexplicable drops and cancellations. Every one has been replaced within a week with a cheap, poor quality work that somehow garnered outrageous ratings."

"Every one?"

"Every… I know the show isn't coming back, Nate, but Sonny Colter?"

"Who is Sonny Colter?"

"He had a semi successful live kids' show about 30 years back. He's a known violent drunk. He shouldn't be near kids. No one would let him on a network until now. Something is wrong and people are going to get hurt."

"We'll figure it out… I promise you."

* * *

"Shows get cancelled all the time. This network decided to clear the schedule and start over cheap and shoddy. It _is _their network. I'm not really sure this is our business," Eliot griped.

"It is our business when it became more than a cancellation. Clay didn't just lose a show. He lost his livelihood, his reputation. Wellington tarnished the show and Clay's reputation as the kids' host. I want to know why and I want to get Clay's name back. Is that _NOT_ our business? I intend to get some answers. You don't go out of your way to ruin the image of a beloved icon without motive. Wellington has more in this than just cutting the schedule. If anyone has a problem with that- speak now," Nate snapped. The team remained silent. They all sat on their stools in the briefing room.

"All right… Hardison- what do you have?" Nate returned to the job.

Hardison clicked his remote. The screens in front of them flooded with pictures and documents.

"Marcus Wellington of Dynamo Network- mediocre producer, was a mediocre programmer until this year. All the programs he placed in the last year are ratings hits."

"Sounds like he knows what he's doing," Parker sighed, only half listening.

"One would think, but for all the ratings, there is ZERO social media chatter. If all these people are watching, they don't care to talk about it."

"If no one is talking about the programs, then who is watching them?" Sophie frowned.

"Yeah, even I can see that doesn't add up," Eliot remarked.

"Glad you admit it…" Hardison smiled and hit a button on his remote. Eliot scrunched his nose defiantly. A list of seemingly random letters and numbers took center stage on the screen.

"Wellington fixed the ratings. He's using an idea similar to the one I used when we took down Rucker. I used the program to spoof IP addresses and drive the viewership up on the video of Eliot from the alley. Wellington is using a program that attaches inactive Nielson boxes to his programs. Anyone with a Nielson box who isn't watching it at a given time is likely being credited as watching Wellington's programs."

"That's one way to get ratings…" Eliot snorted.

"Fake ratings to get sponsorship- okay, but why replace all the programs? Why not pull his stunt with the shows he already had?" Nate questioned.

"Revenue," Hardison replied as he pressed the button to bring up a slide show of company logos. "Every show he's placed in the last two years has a bogus production partner. The names are all different but they all lead to one shell company in the Caymans."

"Wellington is getting a piece of the action," Eliot harrumphed as he crossed his arms.

"Not a bad scheme. If anyone ever figured it out, he'd be on the first plane out. The ratings he's posting, he can throw more money at the programs and line his own pocket," Sophie added.

"We know why he cleared the schedule, but this doesn't explain why he had Clay forcibly removed and humiliated in front of the cameras. What did you find on this 'Sonny Colter'?" Nate furrowed his brow.

Hardison glanced down. "I'm still digging. It's a kids' show with a storytelling cowboy and his magic harmonica. I couldn't find anything on him or the show… BUT I did find a similar local show out of Oklahoma about 30 years ago- Ranger Ron. That show was popular with a live audience of kids on air and on television. Far as I can tell, it was cancelled after the host had a drunken meltdown on air and knocked a kid out."

"You're kidding, right?" Sophie's jaw fell.

"No, I'm not," Hardison sighed.

"Can you confirm they're connected?" Nate asked as he stared at the various screen pictures.

"Can't say for sure yet, but it seems likely. The plots are close, both hosts are known for drinking, and Sonny is old enough to have been Ron in the first place," Hardison answered.

"Clay knew Sonny had a drinking problem and he said he had a violent streak. It's possible Sonny wanted Clay out. We need to get someone inside. Eliot…" Nate stated.

Eliot's eyes were as wide as Nate ever remembered seeing them. A twinge of anxiety was visible on his face and he paled slightly. He was shaking his head back and forth in a small, quick paced arc.

"No…" He managed to force the word out. All the eyes in the room were fixated on Eliot. No one could understand his reaction.

Nate pursed his face a moment. "I'm not asking you to work in front of the camera. A runner for the set…"

"Nate, I've taken beatings, bullets, falls, crashes, even given up a little pride and dignity on occasion, not to mention your drunken criticism. I've done it all, but I can't… Don't ask me," Eliot pleaded, still shaking his head.

The team continued staring at him in shocked silence. Eliot was always the fearless one- his almost debilitating anxiety at a recon assignment was something no one could process. Nate could see Hardison and Parker biting back the desire to press the story out of him. Sophie showed a touch of curiosity herself but concern was the most prevalent emotion. She had told Eliot once before that they all had their secrets and pasts that were their own to deal with and she wouldn't press him. Nate found himself in line with the younger members in his desire to find out what could possibly cause a tougher than nails ex-soldier like Eliot to shy away in fear. That desire reigned for a moment before Nate decided Sophie was right and it was best to let Eliot tell them in his own time. Nate had dealt with his own demons in his time and understood better than anyone that the path couldn't be forced.

"All right, then you can switch with Parker. We need a set of eyes on Sonny. Parker can do it, you can help Hardison get us set up," Nate compromised. He saw Eliot's shoulders drop as a sigh of relief escaped his lips.

"What are we doing?" Sophie smiled.

"We're going to sell Wellington a show he can't resist."

"Won't that make him more money?" Parker twisted her face.

"At first," Nate grinned evilly.

"I like where this is going," Sophie giggled.

"Let's go steal a hit show!" Nate rallied.

* * *

Parker shipped off to Los Angeles the next morning to begin her job as a runner for Dynamo Network. Her main role was to cater to Sonny Colter's program. She did her best to casually chat up the employees and sneak around the set when possible.

Sophie spent the week prepping her acting class. The students were going to get a crash course in television and she wanted to make sure they could pull it off without fail. Using untested actors wasn't something the team liked doing or took lightly. They had done it before, but it was always a risk, one that the rookies didn't always know or understand.

Eliot spent the week turning Sophie's theater upside down and transforming it into a set for the team's project. Hardison gave him a five page list of technical materials at the end of the week, causing a stern growl to emerge.

Hardison continued tracking down all the information he could on Wellington and Sonny Colter, when he wasn't running down a list of materials to chase Eliot after. Filming a fake television show required far more materials than even he had imagined. He almost felt bad giving Eliot such a long list, but the idea of all the new toys coming into his possession brushed the feeling away.

Nate worked on his full alphabet of contingency plans, while overseeing and occasionally helping the others in their work. He knew well enough they all still liked doing things their own way and he tried to allow them to do their work in peace.

A quiet moment hit late Friday and Nate found himself wander into the briefing room where Hardison was hard at work on the computer. Sophie and Eliot were due back soon, Parker later that evening after her flight back to Portland.

"Um," Hardison swallowed. "I, uh, confirmed the connection between Sonny and Ranger Ron…."

"What is it?" Nate eyed him suspiciously. The hacker was extremely nervous and that was putting Nate a little on edge too.

Hardison pointed at the screen. A number of news articles appeared. One article displayed a large photo of a young man dressed in cowboy gear slugging a small boy as two other boys watched in horror. Nate rolled his gaze to another article that described several civil suits brought against the star.

"Hardison?" Nate wasn't in the mood to play a guessing game.

"Sonny IS the old Ranger Ron. He punched little Jordan there on live television about 30 years ago. The show was cancelled on a dime, Sonny was hit with several suits by parents of children traumatized by the event and he's been fighting to get back on the air since."

"Okay, we guessed this already. Why are you so nervous?"

"I wasn't looking, I swear! It's just… He's gonna kill me," Hardison rambled.

"Eliot?" Nate ventured.

"Awwww…. That one has Eliot's eyes," Parker's voice came out of nowhere. The men rolled their eyes up to see her suspended upside down four feet above their heads, looking at the screen.

"When did you…" Hardison babbled and pointed frantically from Parker to the door and back. "You know what, nevermind."

Nate stared at the photo. Parker was dead on with her observation. One of the two horrified youngsters was a spitting image of their hitter. He pointed at the boy, "Is that?"

"I'm about 98% sure. The quality on the image is too low to make out the caption anymore but there IS a Spencer among the civil suits. I'm pretty sure Eliot was sitting next to Jordan when it happened," Hardison explained, a glum expression on his face.

"Sorry I'm late, what'd I miss?" Sophie's chirping voice broke the awkward silence.

"Little Eliot," Parker grinned and pointed at the screen. Nate could only shrug.

Sophie took a shocked step back as she realized Parker's presence. After a moment to gain her bearings, she stared at the screen. Her jaw dropped.

"Yeah, I'm not sure how to handle this. Don't want to tell him I know, but he'll figure it out. So do I tell him or…" Hardison fretted.

"Where do you want all this crap?" Eliot's voice pierced the air. He entered the room juggling a large box in his arms- blocking his line of sight. A few stumbling shuffles and he was able to drop the box on the table. A step back brought the screens into his visual range. Eliot was mortified seeing his small self on the screen.

"DAMMIT, HARDISON!" His face was red with embarrassment as well as anger at the perceived betrayal.

"I swear I wasn't looking! It was accidental, man. I'm sorry," Hardison pleaded.

"And you felt the need to _SHARE_ that accident with the _WHOLE_ group?!" Eliot hissed.

"I didn't know they were here!"

"He's telling the truth, Eliot. We kind of surprised him," Nate confessed.

Eliot tilted his head down in embarrassment and rolled his eyes up to look each of the other four members in the eyes. They could see his bottom lip puff out as he dug his tongue into the back of it and sniffled.

"You shouldn't be embarrassed, Eliot. It wasn't your fault. You were a kid," Sophie counseled.

"Exactly- I was a KID and I still can't freaking set foot on the set! What does that say?!"

"I'm sure it was traumatic…"

"I was a kid. It might sound stupid but that show- that was my outlet. On the show… life was a story, and they always had a happy ending. There was no disappointment," Eliot sighed.

"That's not stupid at all, Eliot. Every kid, hell every ADULT has that 'safe' place they turn to when they need a sense of hope," Sophie responded.

"I begged every day for a year to be able to see it live. Mama saved up and surprised me. Nothing like a front row seat to the complete and utter destruction of your perfect world," Eliot explained, his hands emphasizing his words.

"It was your safe place, and it was destroyed right in front of you," Nate summed up.

"Exactly," Eliot sighed. "Yeah, it was a stupid television show, but… I don't know. I had managed to bury it until Hardison said that name," Eliot scowled as he pointed at Hardison, who hung his head.

"Eliot, adults have trouble coping with the loss of their 'safe' place. You were what- six years old? You weren't prepared for something like that. You've learned how to deal with it since, but it isn't like you can give those skills to yourself at six. Trauma isn't something you can cure. You can learn to cope with it- you didn't know how to cope, so you tried to shove it down deep. Sure, it worked for a while, but it wouldn't just disappear. You've never had to face it head on before so you never dealt with it. Now you have to do it. It's had time to fester and it will be hard- but you have a better battle plan than you did when you were six," Sophie advised.

"What is that, Dr. Phil?" he snipped sarcastically.

"You know the difference between a happy dream place and a happy life. You've learned to deal with fear and disappointment without letting them drag you down, and…" Sophie paused dramatically, causing Nate to smile.

The whole team was riveted to Sophie's advice; they hadn't noticed that they all wanted to know. "AND?" Parker blurted when Eliot didn't immediately respond.

"And unlike a civil court- you have a group of friends who will RUIN him so he can't hurt anyone again," Sophie grinned.

Eliot bit back a chuckle and smile. Her words meant more than he cared to admit. Taking down the man who had given him so much hope as a kid and was also responsible for crushing his soul in one deft move- that was medicine even he could believe in.

"No wise cracks?" Eliot stared at Hardison.

"Nah, man," Hardison shook his head and waved his hand. "I'm not that cruel. Messing with you is one thing, but screwing with a kid is something completely different. I understand the whole ugly childhood incident thing. I'd never use that against anyone."

'Me either…" Parker added. Her eyes were misty and her lip turned sideways in empathy. Eliot knew Parker understood his position more than anyone with her childhood full of similar stories. It was an emotional scene, almost nullified by the fact that she still hung upside down above their heads.

"Parker-" Nate pointed at the floor. She looked up at her rigging.

"Oh," she realized she still hung above them. One flip righted her and she slid down and alit on the table.

"Thank you," Nate acknowledged as she jumped down to the floor and took a seat.

Eliot sighed as the room went silent.

"So… are we good?" Nate interrupted the awkward silence, eyeing each member of the team. All the eyes fell on the still slightly red-faced hitter.

"Not a word about this leaves this room. It never happened," Eliot breathed.

"If that's what you want, man. Never saw it," Hardison agreed. Parker nodded.

"Okay then," Nate took a breath. "Parker- how'd your first week go?"

"I didn't find anything. The crew doesn't seem to like Sonny at all. Only had a few hours on set today. They shut down early when Wellington showed up. He and Sonny disappeared into a side room for the afternoon so they sent us all home. I just scored an earlier flight."

"Hmmm," Nate hemmed.

Parker leaned toward Hardison. "By the way, what does non-comp mean?"

"Could be a few things depending on the context, why?" Hardison frowned.

"When they sent us home, they said take the afternoon off non-comp. I'm not sure what they meant."

"Not compensated, Parker."

"Oh…" Parker smiled. Hardison opened his mouth to explain it further when he saw her face collapse into a frown. "Wait, does that mean he's not gonna pay me? Why does nobody pay me!?"

"I'll get you something to make you feel better," Hardison grabbed her shoulders and led her out to the brew pub.

Nate sighed and turned to Sophie. "How are the students?"

"They're ready for their big television debut if Hardison has everything ready," she smiled.

"I believe he just had Eliot pick up the last of the equipment. Shouldn't take too long."

"We better ACTUALLY need all this crap. That damn van is full. Some of it wasn't exactly easy to find either, so if Hardison decided to add some personal items to the list- I'm gonna break him into one piece for every item on this list!" Eliot hissed as he pulled the large folded list out of his back pocket and tossed it on the table top.

"Please let us finish the job first," Nate requested. Eliot shrugged.

"Oh, Eliot, I need you and Hardison to come over for fittings," Sophie remembered.

Eliot's eyes widened again as he twisted his face, "Fittings? What the hell are we 'fitting'? It's a dang reality show not a play- and fake at that!"

"Fake or not, the audience needs to believe it, so we need to coordinate."

"Dammit, Sophie, if this is another one of your designs…"

"Nothing embarrassing, I promise. I kept you in character… just professional."

"Character? I'm _in _character. What the hell is professional attire for someone about to kick your…"

"You're not pulling a Simon Cowell on my show!"

"Who?" Eliot scrunched his face in confusion.

Sophie sighed and stared Eliot in the eyes. "Simon Cowell, the grumpy, overbearing, unsympathetic man on the talent shows _X Factor_ and _American Idol._"

"Do I look like I watch that crap?"

"You don't have to… the man is everywhere."

Eliot gave her an indifferent shrug.

"The POINT was he wears a plain white, grey or black t-shirt. The man hasn't a fashionable bone in his body."

"What's the problem? He's on two shows so apparently nobody has an issue with it."

"_Arrgh!_" Sophie groaned and clenched her fists. She pierced Nate's eyes with a glare. "Will you help me out here?"

"He's got a point," Nate tilted his head slightly as he spoke. Sophie narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. Nate met her stare for a moment before turning a helpless twisted lip toward Eliot.

"Sophie IS our entertainment expert. If she believes you need to coordinate, you better do it," Nate suggested.

"Way to cave," Eliot muttered. "Fine, but if it gets out of hand or crazy, I refuse to wear it."

"I promise," Sophie swore as her grin grew from ear to ear- knowing she still had both men wrapped around her finger.

* * *

Nate turned the last corner into the main aisle of Sophie's theater. The stage was divided into 3 sections. Section one looked like the image of a teenage Hardison's bedroom that Nate always fell to when the technical genius mentioned Nana. Posters covered the walls displaying super heroes and quotes from the late Steve Jobs & Albert Einstein. Computers lined one wall, looking much like a Jeopardy set. Each station was labeled with a symbol. Nate knew enough to recognize a Star Trek insignia among them, but he was at a loss on the others.

The second section of stage was fitted with ten seats and three stools off to one side. _Main show set_- Nate thought to himself. His eyes continued to the final section.

Ten seats again filled this section, but only two stools were to the side. The walls here were filled with close-up shots of models and actors demonstrating emotions. Stage directions were pasted in between with phrases such as 'LOUD', 'Direct' and 'Everyone for themselves.' He could only imagine what went through Sophie's mind having to teach her students to be BAD actors. Nate was sure he could hear the crying from her soul.

"You like?" Hardison's voice caught him off guard. The hacker had managed to sneak up next to him.

"It works… but one question," Nate ran his tongue along his teeth and placed a finger against his lips. "Where is Eliot doing his bit?"

"Uh, yeah. He refused to be confined to the section we gave him. Something about safety and needing more open space with beginners," Hardison rubbed the back of his neck.

"He realizes that he isn't really going to be teaching anything overly physical?"

"I gave him a list of some of the reality shows that have physical elements to them so he could prep, but not my fault if he takes it more serious."

"So WHERE is his approved section?"

"I guess he rented a shed or something and set it up. I never saw it after setting up the lights and mics."

"Let's try not to go overboard on this. We don't want to go so far that we scare Wellington off. I want it to be a risk but not a completely lost leap of faith." Nate rolled his eyes at him.

"Why are you looking at me?" Hardison laid a hand over his heart.

"The logos…" Nate coughed as he raised an eyebrow.

"No, now see, I altered them slightly so there is no copyright infringement or royalties BUT you still guessed what they were, didn't you? That's how you cash in- legally," Hardison grinned.

Nate puffed out his cheeks. He wasn't buying it.

Hardison sighed, "Fine, I'll lose the logos. You always gotta spoil it, don't ya?"

* * *

The team pulled overtime through the weekend filming. Hardison spent most of the week editing the footage into a pilot episode and trailer for Nate. After a few complaints from Sophie about unflattering lights- which Hardison re-mastered on his software- they had the final cut on DVD.

Nate- through some quick hacking by Hardison into Wellington's social calendar- managed to book an appointment for Friday afternoon. He stood in the Dynamo Network lobby in an ash gray suit, a white shirt and navy tie with ash colored accents. He held a briefcase tightly in one hand- eyeing everyone in the room suspiciously, daring someone to steal his works.

Finally the secretary paged him. "Mr. Carter, Mr. Wellington can see you now."

"Thank you." Nate drew the briefcase against his thigh and strode directly to the office door.

* * *

"Take a seat, Mr. Carter is it?" Wellington beckoned. The walls of the office were covered in awards for programming. A few belonged to the shows Nate was there defending while others belonged to the programs Wellington was buying success for to line his pockets. Nate made sure not to linger too long on them.

"Yes, it is a pleasure getting an audience with you personally, Mr. Wellington." They shook hands as Nate took a seat across from him. He placed his briefcase on the floor next to the chair.

"I'll admit I'm a bit baffled at it myself. No offense, but normally program pitches are sent to my assistants who comb through and send the picks to me. I have been known to have an immediate meeting with previous clients."

"Believe me, I understand. I have a meeting with _FOX_ regarding this gem and can meet with your assistants after that- assuming _FOX_ doesn't take the show immediately," Nate lied as he nervously dug his fingers between his neck and collar.

"You got this far, might as well show me what you have. Would hate to let a possible award winner go to _FOX_- they have enough. Network television is a rap anyway. Cable, that is the winner, we don't have to play by all their little rules. So what do you have?" Wellington folded his hands on the desk top and grinned.

Nate smiled and pulled his briefcase up into his lap. He undid the latches and lifted the top.

"I'm glad you feel that way because I would love to see this on Dynamo Network over a churning broadcast network like _FOX_ anyway." Nate pulled a DVD out of the case, closed the case and placed a disc on the desk, keeping his hand carefully over the label.

"A man with discerning taste, I can appreciate that. So give me a quick read in."

Using his free hand, Nate set the briefcase down and gestured his words. "I bring you the next generation in reality show programming."

"Everyone has reality shows. What could you possibly bring to the table that hasn't already been done?" Wellington frowned.

"My show enables triple usage of the audience favorites. Most shows you get your first round and then an all-star reunion episode if you're lucky. I am adding a third pre-step, if you will. My program allows you to introduce an audience to future reality programs on your network, which can allow you to cash in on the same 'cheap' talent three times," Nate grinned.

Wellington leaned back in his chair for a moment. "And what if the audience doesn't care for the contestants? What am I out?"

"That's the beauty of it." Nate removed his hand and pushed the DVD forward. "I present 'Reality Actor Camp'. You have a group of former reality show insiders willing to work for pennies. They teach a bunch of wanna-be stars how to be reality show stars."

"Let me stop you right there," Wellington interrupted. "I get where you are going with this. The winner or winners then become the star of another program. However, if they don't meet the audience expectations- I'm stuck with them, and how much money am I out?"

"Let me finish," Nate insisted. "The grand prize is the opportunity to star in a reality show, but these are over eager people. They won't read the fine print loophole that allows their starring role in the finale to qualify- with $25,000 compensation."

"So if they don't draw ratings I care for… I can write them off for $25,000?"

"Yes, sir," Nate leaned back with a devilish smirk. "But if they ARE a draw, you get to cash in again by transferring them, and their audience, to another program. This is the next wave of reality show. What do you say?"

"Hmmm," Wellington thought.

"I intend to branch this out. You could be the pioneer. There are benefits to getting in on the groundwork."

"Such as?" Wellington leaned forward.

"15% of the profit… I told you the coaches work for pennies. The addition is yours- off the books, of course. Can't have anyone thinking you have a bias, even though we know everyone is on the take in television, right?" Nate winked.

"Let me see it." Wellington turned his computer monitor so they both could see as Nate removed the disc from its case. He handed it to Wellington to load.

"So who are these 'insiders' you have so cheap?" Wellington asked as he booted the DVD.

"There are three coaches. Kelley Reiner was the challenge designer for the first eight seasons of _Survivor. _He coaches on physical limitations. Sharon Lampert coaches presence and attitude. She was a 'talent' scout for _The Real World, _two of the _Real Housewives…_ franchise shows and _Jersey Shore._ Finally, Robert Stern is our trivia and pop culture trainer. He gets the recruits trained to tackle quiz shows and pop cult phenomena."

"Huh?" Wellington scrunched his face.

"Ever see some of the geek reality shows on _G4 _or _SyFy_ networks?"

"Oh, got it."

"Right, he was involved in near half of them."

~ _"Are you sure using all these big name shows is a good idea?" Eliot frowned as Hardison gave Nate the list of background on the alias he created for the show._

_ "It will sell it," Hardison smiled._

_ "What if he checks on the names?"_

_ "That's the beauty of these particular jobs. No show lists ALL their crew and these jobs are not seen as particularly important to a TV series. The names wouldn't have been on the episodes anyway. I planted some mentions online if he looks that way. Even if he called the studios, they aren't going to give out that kind of info- in particular to a rival network- too much paranoia about stealing talent to share any names- real or fake."_

_ "Whatever…." Eliot grumbled. ~_

"So if I might ask… how did YOU land them for such a small tag? These are monstrously successful programs- why aren't they demanding more?" Wellington twisted his lip waiting on Nate's reply.

"Who gets the money when a show is a major hit? The producers and the network- not the people involved. Big name actors can demand, sure, but we're talking reality shows here. The people involved are a dime a dozen. That's why they are so popular for networks. They were fairly unhappy in their previous positions. Here, they have a small sense of control and that is worth more than a few dollars," Nate raised an eyebrow as he spun his tale. Wellington was in the target, now Nate had to hold him there until the trigger was pulled.

"What kind of control are we talking about?" Wellington was cautious but biting the bait.

"We let them design their individual zones, and they have leeway on how things are run in their area as far as rules and what they coach. Nothing executive or financial, of course," Nate smiled.

"You have quite the honey pot there, Mr. Carter." Wellington almost licked his chops.

"Please… David," Nate corrected him.

"David… a sneak peek here and I'll give you your answer."

Nate smiled and gestured for Wellington to hit play. The man obliged and sat back.

A clatter of music scored before the show logo smothered the screen. The title _Reality Actor Camp_ stood in bold lettering- sage, gray and white shown on the letters and the box surrounding. A surround of circles recalled the logo to a Vegas sign. Wellington's lip twitched. Nate kept watch from the corner of his eye. The logo faded as a booming voice announced.

"Reality Actor Camp… Boot camp for the everyday man to become the any show man." A slide show of random contestants flashed on the screen. The screen froze for a moment before three shadowed figures on stage appeared.

"Three reality show insiders will hone these ten contestants into the next hit reality star!" the voice continued. The camera zoomed in on the far right figure until the screen filled from his ribs to the top of his head. A spotlight suddenly illuminated Eliot's face. He wore a sage polo shirt, the logo on the left breast. Bright lettering appeared with his name and specialty: 'Kelley Reiner- Physical Challenge and Survival.' The standard scowl he preferred to wear shone with perfect resonance on the character.

The screen changed to a couple of footage clips. Eliot stood in an open gym area, arms crossed. Two contestants scrambled to their feet after crawling to him.

"Move!" he barked behind them.

A second scene showed one of the female contestants cross his path flirtatiously. Eliot smiled for a moment as his hand slid something into his pocket after her pass. Nate heard Wellington snort.

Sophie illuminated this time in a feminine cut of the same polo Eliot wore. Her label appeared: 'Sharon Lampert- Appearance, Attitude & Presence.'

All of Sophie's clips showed her at the stools in her section of the stage. The first clip showed her alone at the stools chanting at the contestants- "Loud and in charge." The second clip showed a young man sitting on the other stool.

"You need to be bold," Sophie demanded. "You look like the next three guys on the sidewalk. Why should I notice YOU?" The young man sucked in his bottom lip.

Nate glanced at Wellington. The man's head was cocked to the side slightly.

Finally, Hardison stood illuminated in matching polo. His label read 'Robert Stern- Trivia, Pop Culture & Technology.'

His first clip showed Hardison holding a placard with a _Battlestar Galactica_ Cylon pictured. There was silence in the room.

"CYLON! Come on! This will NOT get any easier folks," he cried.

His second clip showed him leading the contestants in a chorus of the theme song to the old Adam West _Batman_ television series. Wellington joined in under his breath, causing Nate to smile.

A couple of clips of the contestants flickered. The final clips showed a young woman lip off to Sophie at the judge's panel.

Sophie scoffed, "Chatrice! That is NOT going to get you anywhere."

Eliot rolled his eyes at Sophie seated between himself and Hardison. "That's what you're SUPPOSED to be 'teaching' her. It's REALITY star- she's supposed to be a b****, isn't she?"

Wellington couldn't hold back anymore after Eliot's censored comment rolled. His laughter came in bursts.

The final moments showed all three coaches standing on the main set. Eliot stood arms crossed, Sophie's arms were crossed in a feminine way with her fingers extended, Hardison's left thumb hooked in his pants pocket as his right hand hung at his side. The show logo was projected onto the darkened stage before them.

"Three coaches, ten contestants…. ONE Reality Star," the booming voice finished as the screen went blank.

"I have the full pilot episode on there as well," Nate offered.

Wellington's hand beat on the desktop in time to his chuckles. "Well, David, you may have THE most unorthodox approach I have EVER seen- but I must admit, you have a nose for this. One episode and we have judge drama, your token Cowell and a little scandal…"

"Scandal?" Nate scowled.

"The hot girl slipping the judge her digits, I'm not too old to know that move, my boy!"

Nate suddenly realized the clip Wellington had snorted at was of a contestant giving Eliot her phone number.

"The audience will eat it up! You make sure they _see_ what they _shouldn't_ and hopefully she is awful. You rig it to keep her on past her talent, just before the firestorm is about to hit and then toss her aside to quell the conspiracy theorists. I must admit, I do like the unexpected twist. The Cowell is a gorgeous British woman, while the scowling one seems to be the sensible one. That will throw the people and drive them to watch. You are truly visionary my friend."

"So you want it?" Nate let some fake surprise light his face.

Wellington flashed him a Cheshire Cat grin. "I'm certainly not going to let you send it to those _FOX_ blood suckers. Bring all your legal work Monday and we'll put it down. I want this running as soon as possible."

Nate shook Wellington's hand, "I knew I went to the right man first."

* * *

"I can't believe you wanted to risk the whole con by getting all worked up over one of your students acting like a reality diva!" Eliot complained. He arranged his sandwich at the pub's bar. Sophie stood next to him preparing herself a drink. Parker sat a little ways away at the bar, watching intently. A popcorn tray in front of her continued to vanish. Hardison had vacated to a far table with his laptop, but found it hard not to snicker at the exchange himself.

"She was doing exactly what you were supposed to be 'teaching' her to do," Eliot continued, finger quoting and scowling.

"Not _TO _me and not when we're on the main stage," Sophie barked. "And like you have _ANY_ right to complain, Mr. ALWAYS OPEN!"

Eliot glared at her. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Did ANY of them manage to NOT palm their numbers to you? One episode, we filmed ONE episode!"

"I didn't ask for them, did I?" Eliot roared, his fingers pointed at his chest as he beat his right hand against it.

* * *

Nate could hear the ruckus as he approached the door. The volume nearly knocked him over as he opened the door to enter the pub.

"How is that my fault?" Eliot huffed before dropping his right hand and returning to his sandwich.

"Oh, because you don't LOOK for the attraction, right? It's all accidental…" Sophie muttered.

"What the heck is going on?" Nate shouted over the din. Sophie and Eliot both stopped to stare at him. He stood just inside the pub with his briefcase.

"Ooo, ooo, oh!" Parker waved her arm in the air as she swallowed most of the popcorn stuffed in her mouth. A few pieces remained as she explained, "Eliot is mad at Sophie for yelling at Chatrice for doing what Sophie was supposed to teach her and almost ruining the con. AND Sophie is mad at Eliot for attracting girls so that he got the phone number from almost every contestant- some in front of the camera- almost ruining the con." She smiled and gave a nod.

Eliot and Sophie both glanced at her as they realized she had summed up the argument perfectly. They both turned slightly red and hung their heads as they became aware of the absurdity of it all.

"We've worked together how long now?" Nate tilted his head slightly.

"Yeah," Eliot groaned slowly.

"I suppose…" Sophie twitched her nose.

"Good, so I can point out that both of those were on the footage Wellington saw," Sophie and Eliot cringed "and those two elements essentially sold him," Nate laughed.

"He's on the hook?" Parker grinned.

"He dang near swallowed the line…"

"Now, how do we close him down?" Eliot queried as he picked up his finished plate and made his way around Sophie to sit and enjoy his meal.

"Hardison," Nate called.

"Yeah?" Hardison replied, watching over his laptop screen.

"He wants the show on ASAP. Means he'll have to dump something. Track everything he isn't personally profiting from. We're going to owe someone here."

"I feel guilty getting another show cancelled for this…" Sophie sighed.

"A necessary evil," Nate admitted. "Wellington would do it eventually anyway. If everything goes right, we'll be able to put it back in its rightful place, without fear of being cancelled unfairly again."

* * *

The team worked feverishly to film a handful of episodes. They needed time to set the pitfall under Wellington. Using a reality show format had its advantages, they realized. It was quick filming when there was no such thing as a perfect delivery. No script meant they didn't need take after take. Mistakes were as much a part of the show as the successes. Sophie's students were enthralled with the idea of making it on television so soon and it encouraged them to work harder and faster to get it right. Even Eliot admitted the progress some made on his obstacle course was impressive.

One flaw in the plan came as each episode wrapped. One of the students always had to be thrown out and a fight inevitably ensued. Eliot had to make his presence felt on more than one occasion- immediately drawing arguments to a close. Sophie was thankful that his mere glare could quiet most of the fighters. Her assurances that no one was a loser and that an impartial system was determining who was sent home seemed to appease most. She still feared some hurt feelings though and decided to make a competition out of the losses. All the students were challenged to make the 'loss' an exercise in their expressions. The idea of being sent home suddenly became an opportunity to show off the ability to showcase a variety of emotions and a welcome growth exercise.

* * *

Nate sat in the briefing room with his coffee mug clutched in both hands. His eyes were lost in thought. The building seemed vacant with the silence that surrounded him. He knew Hardison was asleep upstairs, Sophie napped on the sofa in the far corner and he had no idea where Eliot had crashed but a sneaking suspicion told him the man was in the brew pub making some breakfast that only Sophie had a prayer of being able to pronounce. It had been an intense con and everyone was exhausted. Sophie was the only one used to long cons. Long cons were labor intensive and sapped both patience and energy. Nate rarely asked his team to pull them off, knowing his three younger team members were not patient enough to test often. This con had asked for an even more extended timeline and a heavy amount of work up front. He had no doubt they would handle it, but even he was weary. They held up better than he hoped, as did Sophie's students. A smile crossed his face.

Normally Nate would have had the team at rapt attention as he gave them final notes for the night's project, but they were professionals and had earned the rest they were enjoying. Nate was sure everyone could handle themselves at a formal party by now. Wellington had arranged Dynamo Network's new pilot party to coincide with the launch of _Reality Actor Camp_. Everyone was to attend and rub shoulders with sponsors and rival network presidents before Wellington presented his new reality show. It was the easiest part of the con, as far as Nate was concerned. Stay in character was the only real message. For once, they would attend a party with the mark and just enjoy themselves. Hardison had already rigged up his computer to do its job. He would triple check it before they left, but no one had any other job that night. It pleased Nate to be able to give the team that small gift. Sophie would appreciate it, the other three… suddenly Nate realized formal wasn't their forte. The night grew longer in his mind and he sighed.

"What time is it?" Sophie's voice cooed.

"9:30," Nate answered and sipped his coffee. She tiptoed to him and pulled the mug away to sip from it herself.

"The boys?" she asked as she took another.

"Hardison is still crashed upstairs. Eliot's probably making breakfast," he offered.

"How long were you going to let us sleep?"

"Couldn't have anyone nod off during the party tonight." Nate took his coffee back.

Sophie stretched her arms over her head. "You realize you're only giving me 3 hours once we land?"

"You want an earlier flight?"

"No, I'm just pointing it out."

"You're quick."

"Hear from Parker yet?"

"She's off at noon for the party as well. She'll meet us at the hotel."

They both heard a door click echo down the hall and they glanced up at the doorway.

"How long you gonna let him sleep?" Eliot demanded. He stood in the doorway, an apron covered his jeans and faded black tee. Nate knew Eliot had been as exhausted as anyone else on the team and it struck him how refreshed the hitter looked after a mere few hours of sleep.

_"I only sleep 90 minutes a day." _Nate recalled Eliot tell Sophie when they had taken down Lillian Foods. He knew the man exaggerated at the time, but looking at him in the doorway now, Nate had to wonder if it wasn't by much.

"He was pretty tired. We don't have much work tonight but it will be a long one…" Nate explained in response to Eliot's question.

"Breakfast is gonna get cold," the hitter insisted.

"I'll go get him up," Sophie offered. She snatched at Nate's coffee mug once more but he pulled it away. A pout crossed her lips as she sighed and made her way to the stairs.

"What are we having?" Nate smiled.

* * *

The flight arrived in LAX early. Sophie beamed about the good omen. Hardison and Eliot both grumbled about time moving too slowly. Parker had their keys waiting at the front desk. The suites were small, forcing the team to use two. Nate preferred the alone time with Sophie, but also saw the business side. The small room was more believable should Wellington spring a visit. He and Sophie shared a king-sized bed. The other three had two doubles and one of the rollaway cots. Nate swore he could hear Hardison across the hotel cursing yet another ill-fated Rock - Paper - Scissors game with Eliot over the beds.

The limo arrived promptly at 6:00 pm to escort them to the Dynamo gala. Several of the guests inside made a point of speaking to Nate and the team when they arrived. Wellington had warned Nate that the details of the program were kept quiet. The name had been released and simply billed as the next evolution of reality competition. The ploy had worked. Buzz had built and the team found themselves being pressed for information. They played coy as expected.

Nate found Wellington chatting up the head of _FOX_, ribbing him about stealing the newest hit away from him. The man laughed in good humor.

"Ah, there is my newest hit maker himself! David, come here!" Wellington waved Nate over.

"Mingle guys. Just stay in character…" Nate ordered over the coms. Sophie hugged his arm and they made their way out.

Eliot spotted a group of giggling actresses in the corner. "See you later," he grinned at Parker and Hardison before making a beeline for the group.

"Typical," Hardison quipped. Parker just shrugged.

"So yooou are one of dem neww hot shots?" a slurred voice barked behind them. The two of them turned to see a very sloshed Sonny Colter staring at them.

"Robert Stern and this…" Hardison began introducing Parker.

"Elsie Burrows… she werks fur me…" Sonny interrupted.

"Ellie Barrow," Parker muttered angrily.

"I'm not shure I lak my girl wif the emeny," Sonny narrowed his eyes at them. "I gotta talk to Wellington." He began staggering toward the corner. Parker spotted Eliot in Sonny's path. She quickly grabbed Sonny's shoulder and directed him away toward the catering.

"I believe I saw him by the buffet table," she offered.

"Stuffing his face, eh?" Sonny snorted and staggered off.

"That was nice, Parker," Hardison whispered in her ear.

"We're supposed to stay in character and fly under the radar. Pretty sure Eliot making a scene isn't doing that," she explained.

"No, I'm pretty sure not."

"You two should split up. Don't want anyone else to get suspicious," Eliot growled into the coms. "And thanks," he added in a faint whisper. Parker smiled.

The lights dimmed and flickered a moment.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you would make your way into the auditorium, the time has arrived. You will be the first to witness this new milestone in television history," Wellington announced to the crowd.

The team frowned.

"Nate, what is he doing? The episode isn't supposed to air for another hour," Hardison groaned in the com.

"Give me a minute," Nate answered. He leaned into Wellington's ear. "The episode is supposed to air in an hour."

"Oh, it will my boy, but the crowd here is getting a special sneak preview. It's a perk of being the head of programs. I have the full pilot here and we'll see it before the general populace. I want to enjoy the reaction of this crowd (not to mention all the free advertising we'll garner when they hit Twitter) and drive the ratings up." Wellington slapped Nate's shoulder, then grabbed it and squeezed Nate against him. "The best advertising is free, and with this group, positive or negative will drive people to watch."

"Great…" Eliot moaned over the com.

"Perfect…" Nate answered.

* * *

"Are you crazy!?" Hardison shouted. The team was gathered in the suite shared by Hardison, Parker and Eliot. Both girls had shed their heels; the boys were in various stages of removing suits. Nate's tie was loosened. Eliot had lost the tie, jacket and pulled his shirt tails free. Hardison had his tie on the bed and his shirt pulled loose from his pants as well.

"It'll be fine," Nate replied.

"He showed the real pilot, Nate. The one meant to hook him. Hardison had to pull the doctored one," Sophie sighed.

"It's pulling in REAL ratings, man," Hardison added.

"Dammit, Nate. How do we screw this guy over when he doesn't have to mess with the ratings? Not to mention, OUR faces are now on a few hundred websites, fansites…. We can ALL agree that's a bad thing," Eliot grumbled.

"Details… Hardison can fix the face thing. This is a small set back but you miss the bright side. It is a genuine hit now, that will have Wellington over confident. He'll be easier to push if he believes that he won't fail," Nate tried to reassure them.

"What if it doesn't? Fail, I mean," Parker threw the option out plainly.

"Any show will fail given the proper circumstances. It will work. Don't worry," Nate smiled and left the room. The rest of the team rolled their eyes before Sophie followed him, leaving the other three to finish winding down.

* * *

"You do realize this is a problem?" Sophie called after Nate as she tailed him down the hall. He stopped in front of their suite before looking up at her.

"We can fix it. We've been in worse situations." He swiped the key card and opened the door.

"I know, but it would be nice for you to admit just ONCE when a plan has gone wrong," she sighed as she pushed past him into the room. He followed.

"Why is that?" he asked out of curiosity. The door clicked shut as he stood just inside the room; Sophie placed her shoes in the closet.

"You don't look so crazy when you admit things don't always go right."

"I always have two dozen back up plans… how much more admission of the possibility of plan failure do you want?" Nate insisted.

She walked back and placed her hand on his shoulder. "We have faith in you, Nate. After five years, we have that, but sometimes a little reassurance that you're human AND recognize it, would be nice."

Nate hemmed a minute considering her words. "The iron captain doesn't do it for you, huh?" he joked.

She flashed him an unamused pout. "Just think on it. Can you get the zipper?" She brushed her hair back as he reached behind her neck.

* * *

Nate and Sophie came down to the hotel breakfast late. They found Parker and Hardison finishing plates.

"Where's Eliot?" Sophie asked, looking around the room. She and Nate pulled their chairs out and sat.

"He didn't agree with the meal. Last I saw he disappeared back in the suite with a bag of groceries and the room hot plate,' Hardison explained between his bites of toast. Sophie chuckled quietly. Nate rolled his eyes.

"We'll have to catch him up later. You have the final numbers from last night?" Nate asked.

The waitress approached them.

"Two coffees…" Sophie ordered. The woman nodded and marched off.

"You know they don't release those until this afternoon?" Hardison stared at him. Nate raised a brow. "I'm just kidding. There were 7.3 million views, Nate. We have a monster to bring down."

Sophie closed her eyes and sighed. The waitress brought the coffees. Nate quickly thanked her to shoo her off.

"7.3 million? Nate?" Sophie glared at him.

"The board isn't going to let a show with that rating go. Wellington is going to move fast. We accelerate the plan," Nate nodded once to assure them.

"I'm not ready," Parker disagreed. "I still haven't got anything on Sonny."

"We've got Sonny, don't worry," Nate grinned.

"How do you do that?" Hardison frowned.

"You'll get it one day, Hardison. I have no doubt you'll figure it out."

Parker's face suddenly lit up. "Jealousy… wait, but I'm not good with that."

"You'll do fine, Parker. Just don't stab him and you'll be fine."

Eliot made his way to the table. "Started the meeting without me?" He grabbed a chair from a neighboring table, spun it around and straddled it, laying his arms on the back.

"We didn't want to take you away from your gourmet breakfast," Nate teased. Eliot wrinkled his nose.

"So what are we doing?" Eliot sniped. The waitress had begun to approach but froze and quickly retreated once she recognized Eliot.

"We're accelerating the plan…" Nate answered.

"Because we raked in 7.3 million viewers last night. And for the record, Wellington DIDN'T doctor those," Hardison pointed out.

"GREAT," Eliot moaned. "Got a plan to chase away 7.3 million people in a hurry?"

"We don't need to chase them all away, just enough to scare Wellington," Nate replied calmly.

"Okay… so you have a plan to scare off 5 million viewers?" Hardison sighed. Eliot, Parker and Sophie looked to Nate for the same answer.

"Really? You doubt me? What happened to 'we have faith in you, Nate'?" Nate directed his final sentence to Sophie.

"We do, doesn't mean we don't worry," she sassed. The three younger team members found themselves glancing back and forth- knowing they had missed yet another point of tension between the couple.

"I think this conversation should continue somewhere a bit more private," Hardison suggested. Nate stole a glance around the room. Two of the wait staff in the corner were watching intently.

"Upstairs- ten minutes," Sophie ordered.

"Done," Hardison answered. He and Parker stood and made their way out. Eliot took one last glance at Nate and Sophie.

"We'll be fine," Nate assured him. Eliot took a breath, stood, spun the chair back to its place and rushed to catch Parker and Hardison.

'What was that?" Sophie demanded.

"I asked a simple question," Nate stated.

"You're the mastermind, Nate. You know all your back up plans. WE don't. Sometimes I think you forget what it's like to not be in control. We have faith, but we also like to have some idea where we're going. At least we'd have an idea that someone had control. Next time you want to pull the trust card, try looking at the blind faith we give you every day." Sophie stood, shoved her chair in and left without a word.

"That went well," Nate told himself.

* * *

Wellington had provided Nate's suite through the weekend, facilitating Nate's availability Monday morning to discuss the show's future. The team occupied themselves in the LA area. Sophie and Nate continued the antagonizing vibes, causing every one to be unsettled.

Once Nate found himself entering Wellington's office, he also found himself glad to be back on the con. The distraction was necessary to keep the team sharp and to relieve the tension.

"David!" Wellington shouted. "Sit, sit." He beckoned Nate to a chair.

"Mr. Wellington, I take it we did well?" Nate sat.

"Well? I've been fielding phone calls all weekend. Estimates are north of 8 million with DVR figured in…"

"Oops… I knew I missed something," Hardison choked over the com. He and Sophie sat in a car in a neighboring lot. Parker returned to work. Eliot walked the perimeter keeping watch. He wore a baseball cap pulled low to hide his face. Hardison had been able to hack most of the photos from the show, but that wouldn't stop the first hand viewers from recognizing them.

"8 million? You're kidding me!" Nate laughed it off.

"Not. The big boys over me demanded the show be given the full season and they want to set talks for next season before word gets around," Wellington explained.

"We have a small issue there…" Nate bit his lip.

"What issue? What is it?"

"I don't have the funds for that."

"What do you mean? How can you not? You already filmed half of it. I'm getting you your money for the rest of it."

"See, the thing is, an issue arose with our lease and I had to use the free cash to fix that," Nate sighed.

"You're not under, are you?"

"No, I'm treading water."

"I can advance if you are that tight. You should have just asked." Wellington tried to hide the concern crawling.

"You don't understand. It won't make a difference. Even if you advance all of it, I can't afford to finish the season anymore."

"How is that possible?"

"In all honesty, I never expected it to take off THAT well initially."

"That is a GOOD thing. I still don't understand." Wellington began to drift from concerned to cross.

"The coaches… I told you they were cheap." Wellington nodded as Nate continued, scratching at his neck. "There's a clause in their contracts that, well… you have to understand I truly never expected this so I didn't expect this would happen when the contracts were written."

"How much will they be paid to do the rest?" Wellington frowned.

Nate sighed and glanced around the room. He pulled a pen from his inner jacket lining. A small notepad sat on the desk. He slid it over and jotted down a number. A deep sigh escaped his lips before he turned the pad 180 degrees and pushed it toward Wellington with shame.

Wellington waited a moment before taking in the number. His eyes grew wide. "This is the…"

"Each…" Nate swallowed.

"Each? Um…"

"I can't pay that. We'll have to leave the show unfinished."

"No, we can't do that. We have to finish it out. The audience needs to be satisfied or we lose them- not only for this program but others. We can't lose them over this."

"Where do you expect me to find the money?"

"I can't authorize more for you without cutting somewhere else."

"I'm truly sorry, Mr. Wellington, I am." Nate stood and began to make his way to the door.

"David, give me a couple of days. I'll find the money."

Nate paused and turned back. "I'll do my best. I owe you, Mr. Wellington, and I always pay my debts."

"I'll hold you to that."

With a nod, Nate exited the office. He cleared the secretary's earshot before ordering over the com. "Hardison, it's on. Trace him; I want to know where that money is coming from before he does. This is it."

* * *

"I'm positive, Nate, this is the one. This show's ratings suddenly dropped- and they happen to be in their renewal window," Hardison pointed at the computer screen. He and Nate were alone in the office area back in Portland. Eliot and Sophie were out blowing off steam.

"Are you keeping tabs…" Nate reminded.

"Yes, Nate. I'm getting everything down."

"I don't want anyone being left out when we take this guy down."

"No one does," Hardison gave him a helpless, toothless grin.

"Is this one of his profits?"

"No, in fact, I believe this is the last program he doesn't get a piece of on the air."

"How many programs does he have coming for renewal?" Nate leaned over Hardison's shoulder to see the laptop.

"There are three in the window. He also has a couple daily programs like Sonny that are anytimes."

"I believe it is time to rattle this cage. Tweak the ratings on those two," Nate pointed at the screen, "not too much but enough for concern. And give Parker a cancellation notice for that one."

"You are mean," Hardison chuckled. "I like it."

* * *

Parker retrieved the papers Hardison created from the printer room at Dynamo. Hardison almost felt bad about the ease of cracking their network. It was like hiding valuables from Parker in a bread box. He wondered if he should throw his two cents in when they exposed Wellington's manipulation. At least, he hoped they would examine their own security afterward. Hardison decided to table the thought. It was distracting and he wasn't sure if he had the time to list all the upgrades needed.

Nate flew back to LA after Wellington demanded they hash out details in person. With Parker engaging the final leg of the con, Eliot insisted on accompanying Nate. He still wasn't able to bring himself to enter the set, but he wanted to be close if things went bad. The fear was strong enough to keep him in the lot outside, but he had faith that his fear of something happening to Parker would be stronger and force his hand if necessary.

Hardison stayed at base where he could access anything the team needed. Sophie kept him company. The hotel room was slightly larger than the two they had filled for the gala, but seemed crowded with all the hardware Hardison hooked up. A number of screens were set up, each monitoring a different program, Nielson, Dynamo, Wellington's office and one followed Parker's path through the studio sets.

She delivered the ratings notices and the cancellation papers first. Sonny was the last stop. Parker handed the stacks of papers to the set producer, but Sonny snapped the papers out of the man's hands and snarled to chase him off. Parker pursed her lips watching the poor man scurry away.

Sonny opened and began reading the top notice. "What!?" He threw the letter and papers to the floor.

Parker took a breath, Eliot did likewise in the lot.

"That's why you were fawning all over those new people!" Sonny snarled.

"You! Girl!" The producers from the two shows Nate asked be dropped entered the set carrying their letters.

"Yes?" Parker smiled innocently.

"You messed up. This isn't my show," one sighed.

"And this surely isn't mine," the other insisted.

"Oh," Parker replied. "Let me see." She looked at the letters they held and compared them to her list.

"These numbers are not mine. I have been assured they are higher," the first producer expounded.

The second producer eyed the first. "Same here and I have an agreement in place already so this cancelled letter is most assuredly incorrect."

"No, those are correct according to my list. You'll have to take it up with the sender, if you have an issue," Parker answered as she grinned.

"Wellington will regret this!" The second producer roared.

"How did you make an arrangement? You negotiated early?" the first demanded.

"How do you have assurances on ratings?" the second fired back. They stared at each other for a moment.

"WELLINGTON!" They hissed together.

"I'm going to kill that weasel," the second growled.

"Not if I get him first." The first producer stormed away, the second in quick pursuit.

"Very good, Parker," Nate complimented on the com. He sat in the lobby awaiting his appointment.

Parker smiled at the praise, almost forgetting Sonny still standing there.

"You're with those people, aren't you? You bought Wellington off. How much did you promise him, huh? He got rid of Clay Campbell for me, so if he's willing to risk that getting out- you must have given him something significant. What is it?!" Sonny shouted.

"I'm just doing my job," Parker answered.

Sonny grabbed her by the throat and shoved her into the stage wall. "Answer me!"

Eliot heard the thud over the com. He tried to charge in but fear kept his legs in place. His eyes misted and his breath was labored as his nightmare took hold.

Parker tried to swallow, producing a squeaking sound that echoed through the com. It was enough. She was in real danger, unable to breath. Eliot's brows drove down between his eyes as he took a deep breath and willed his legs to move. The first step was the longest moment of his life. Waiting, waiting... until his heel hit the ground and the second step came in almost an instant. Determination from somewhere was pushing him faster and faster. After a few steps, he was at a dead run.

"I paid Wellington damn good money to get rid of Campbell. I won't let some reality freeloaders take it away!" Sonny's voice thundered in the com.

Eliot strained to pick out Parker's voice, a sigh, any sign he wasn't too late. A barrage of muffled sounds was all that came. He knew those sounds all too well- having doled out plenty of beatings in his career.

"Parker!" he hollered loud enough for her to hear without the com.

* * *

Nate glanced at his watch- one more minute. The two irate producers stormed through the lobby.

"Gentlemen, you have to wait," the receptionist tried to calm them. They shoved her aside and burst through the door into Wellington's office.

"Hardison, it's on," Nate whispered in the com.

"The scumbag reality hour is live in 3… 2… 1…" Hardison typed furiously on the laptop.

All the televisions in the lobby went dark. Dynamo's programming paused.

* * *

Eliot turned the corner, bursting onto the set. His fists were raised and ready.

Twenty feet away from him, Parker held a bruised and bleeding Sonny in a crowbar lock, his face toward the floor.

"That was for Clay and Jordan," she snorted. She leaned in close. "And this… this is for Eliot." Parker released Sonny's arm and slammed her elbow into his face as he attempted to rise. He sprawled out cold on the floor. She looked to Eliot's face for an evaluation. He stared back blankly for a moment.

"Nice job," he managed to mumble. "Sorry I didn't get here faster. I almost couldn't do it at all," he confessed.

"You're here. I knew you would do it."

"How'd you know? _I_ wasn't sure until I actually did it."

"You've never let me down before," Parker stated simply.

"Did you seriously let it go that far just to get me in here?" Eliot glared at her.

"No…" Parker rolled her eyes to buy a minute. "I had to wait to make sure we got what he and Wellington did to Clay."

"Thanks…" Eliot breathed so Parker alone could hear. She flashed him a knowing smile and a wink.

"Did we get it?" Parker cued on the com.

"Oh, yes. We and millions more," Hardison laughed as he leaned back in his chair. Sophie clapped his shoulder with a grin.

* * *

The lobby of Dynamo Network was silent. Everyone stared at the screens. Sonny's performance with Parker broadcast in high definition.

"Mr. Wellington!" the receptionist paged. "You'd better check the network!"

Both producers went quiet as Wellington turned on his office TV. Sonny's footage played on a repeating loop.

"How many shows had you in their pockets?" one of the producers pried.

The screen suddenly split. Sonny continued to play on one side. The other lit up with Wellington's office security camera.

"Is that broadcasting?" the second producer demanded.

Wellington observed the time stamp- it was from minutes before. "The camera doesn't have audio feed, it's fine," he assured them.

As if reading his mind, the TV blared to life with the audio. The entire argument between Wellington and both producers about profits and ratings fixing played out.

"No audio? How do you explain that?" one producer hissed.

"Our reputations are trashed!" the other cried.

"I…" Wellington stood dumbfounded.

~_ "Oh, let me see." Parker compared the producer's letters to her list. As the first producer leaned in to hand her the letter, Parker quietly slipped her fingers up into the man's lapel and tucked an audio transmitter into the lining. _

"_These numbers are not mine. I have been assured they are higher," the first producer expounded. ~_

Wellington hit a button on his phone. "Kill the feed! Kill it!"

A moment passed before the channel went completely dark.

"I can clean this up. No one is truly watching anyway. Seventy percent of the viewers are made up," Wellington explained.

"Mr. Wellington…" a stern voice echoed through the room.

Wellington rolled his eyes toward the door. Three of the network's board members stood with crossed arms. The unimpressed looks on their faces said it all.

"You asked us down here to sign off on the biggest program on our network to date and instead we find out you've been defrauding the whole company. I think it goes without saying, you are fired!" one of the men barked.

"We'll have to issue formal apologies to the viewers, the FCC, Nielson, the programs affected and anyone else hurt by this scandal. We'll have to get new evaluations of the programming to get a true report," another of the board members listed.

"What do we do in the mean time?" the first asked. "We have to air SOMETHING."

"I think you'll find the viewers happy to see the old programs returned," Nate's voice cut through the room. Everyone glared are him in the doorway.

"Who are you?" a board member asked.

"David Carter, FCC Investigation Unit. We received several complaints about possible fraud with this man," Nate pointed at Wellington.

"FCC investigation unit? Who would buy a story like that?" Wellington snorted. "He's a producer. He's trying to cover his actions now."

Nate flashed a federal ID to the room.

"A producer? Really?" the lead board member arched a brow at Wellington. "How do you know what the viewers want?" he redirected to Nate.

"I told you we received several complaints- enough to launch a covert investigation. Many of them came from viewer groups and watch dogs. The feedback and concerns show the viewers want the old programming. Our people have the figures to show real numbers versus the doctored figures. I'll have a copy sent to you."

"I've never heard of the FCC doing covert stings like this," one of the producers eyed Nate suspiciously.

Nate grinned as he leaned in to answer, "That's the idea…"

* * *

Clay Campbell sat at the table in the corner of the brew pub staring at Nate Ford sipping from a coffee mug.

"Nate?" he swallowed anxiously.

The mug touched the table top as Nate pulled a file from the seat next to him and slid it over to Clay. The man's eyes grew wide and he held his breath. A quick swallow and he flipped the file open.

"Reinstated… but how?" Clay couldn't put his thoughts into words.

"Show goes back into production next month, AFTER the network airs a public apology to you and the other programs Wellington destroyed," Nate explained. "Until then, they are airing the last season again so your fans get the chance to see what they missed."

"Public apology?"

"Public, and they are spending lavishly to promote each show's return so you shouldn't have any issues with anyone not finding you."

"Nate, I don't know what to say."

"Wellington, is facing federal charges for tampering with Nielson and the various outlets."

"All I can do is say thank you. I can't repay this, Nate."

"No need. You just keep doing what you do. That's all I need."

"Not to look this gift horse in the mouth, but how did you get everyone back up so quickly? Even with the fraud, it would take a while to recover the money to pay for us."

"All we did was provide the evidence against Wellington, a generous sponsor donated the money to get the shows rolling until the money could be recovered. I certainly don't have that kind of capital- but someone else does," Nate circumvented the question.

"Did," Hardison quipped from the bar. The team heard Nate's conversation and couldn't help laughing about it.

"I still can't believe you liberated that much money from Wellington's account before the feds could get it," Eliot commented. He and Sophie stood behind the bar watching Nate and Clay. Parker sat next to Hardison.

"I'm good, what can I say?" Hardison smiled.

"Next time, I get to be on TV," Parker muttered. "I want to be on TV."

"Technically you were… well 'Ellie' was."

"Oh, yeah, I got to beat up Sonny on TV, didn't I?" Parker smiled and held a high five up to Eliot who grudgingly returned it.

"Actually, that didn't air, but I recorded it anyway. I'll burn you a DVD," Hardison laughed as he squeezed her shoulders.

"I wanna say thanks for not making a big deal out of this," Eliot admitted, glancing around awkwardly.

"We've all dealt with our issues, Eliot. We support each other, that's what family does." Sophie pat his shoulder.

"Thanks all the same," he mumbled and shrugged. "What happened with our show anyway? How come the network didn't give us a fight to keep it?"

"Oh, the second and third episodes aired and the ratings fell flat. Guess the audiences claimed the chemistry between us was too nice and wasn't dramatic or back stabbing enough to be entertaining. We got along too well for American audiences. Isn't that weird?" Hardison explained.

"Yeah, kind of doesn't make sense, does it?" Parker pouted. "I don't get TV viewers."

"Nobody does, Parker," Eliot replied.


End file.
